Revenge turned Bliss
by TheChaoticRpWriter
Summary: A literate role play that is currently ongoing between my Eris and a friend of mines Loki. The point of view of Eris is written by me, and the point of view of Loki is written by Loki. Due to how far it has gotten, I would hope it would become a great short-story.


Time had no meaning in the void between the realms, and Loki was unable to tell if he had been falling for mere minutes or for years. When he closed his eyes, he didn't feel like he moved at all, and at first, after he had let go of Gungnir, the only way to measure his speed had been the receding sight of Odin, Thor and the shattered Bi frost. Only then he had realized how quickly he was actually falling, and once Asgard was completely out of his sight, he had no way of measurements anymore.

The void itself was anything but empty. Admittedly, there were no sounds, nor scents, he didn't feel anything at all, but too often he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, barely a flicker, but it was there. Perhaps an illusion of his mind, but one could never be sure… During his travels through Yggdrasil's branches he had stepped into the void a couple of times to save time, he never had stayed long enough to see if there was 'more', now he discovered that there was not really much to see, and despite his usual curiosity, he had no interest in meeting the inhabitants of this place if there were some; not yet, at least. There were more pressing matters on his mind, but first... he waited patiently, then he slowly counted to one hundred, concentrated and called for his magic to let his presence flicker, very faintly at first, then stronger before completely disappearing. He was, by no means, invisible, no – but this way he was safe from Heimdall's all-seeing eyes and hopefully from any other creatures' senses too; he had successfully used the same spell to cloak the presence of the Frost Giants from the gatekeeper before, and if even Heimdall could be fooled, Loki was sure that he was fairly safe from any accidental discovery.

Now he allowed himself to relax slightly and thought back to the latest events. Odin, this arrogant, lying and manipulative bastard… And Thor, this hot-headed role-model of an Aesir… Only now Loki realized that he could use the term Aesir as an insult, since he himself was none of them. He sniggered quietly to himself. _Frost Giant_, he mind whispered to him and he started to laugh. Admittedly, this discovery had thrown him off balance, but after realizing what it actually meant for him and instead of despairing, he had done what he had always been good at: deciding to use this new-found knowledge to his advantage. But he really should have known; all the signs had been there and everything made perfect sense now. No wonder Odin had treated him so differently most of his life, not like a person, but like a tool to be used. If he was honest to himself, Loki 'did' feel slightly lost, but now that he was free of any bounds, he had enough time to come to terms with himself.

Again, he thought back at the last moments with Thor and Odin, idly wondering if they would mourn for him…. Even if they didn't and wanted to rid themselves of any memories of the Jotun traitor, they would not be able to forget him anytime soon. By forcing Thor to destroy the Bifrost to save Jotunheim from its destruction, Loki had created a spectacular monument for himself. This way, whenever an Aesir looked at the broken Rainbow Bridge, they would remember him. Would they regret that they had wronged him or would they curse his name? He didn't care either way.

What happened to Asgard and its people no longer mattered to Loki; he was now free to do as he pleased and to go wherever he wanted to go. Speaking of 'going'- by now it was really high time to escape this boring nothingness; he was sick of floating idly; it was time to act. Raising his head, he checked his environment, then once again he called for his magic and used it to open a small portal right ahead of him. It was more straining than he had anticipated, but he concentrated harder and watched it slowly growing. Its outer edges flickered, but it was stable. The strain to keep it open was more noticeable with every passing moment and he could feel his heart beat speeding up and clenched his fists. He literally fell through it and noticed the difference at once. The light was blinding, there were noises, there were scents and he could feel a harsh wind biting his facial skin. He fell, and then crashed into something very solid. The impact was hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs and for a moment he lay there without moving, simply relishing the fact that he was no longer aimlessly falling through the nothingness. It was time to move on.

Hot ash scattered across the harsh landscape. The ash flew as the wind commanded it to, swooshing forever in a circulation of current, above the endless plains of sand that was this world. This was the punishment that Eris was given, sentenced to spend her time in this prison. Time meant nothing here, everything was the same, always the same. Time did not exist; what would be seconds, felt like a years. She was the haunting specter of the wasteland, her shadow crept past every crumbling pillar, presence never lucid. An angry soul who wanted the revenge for the way her cruel pantheon treated her. A sentence of over a hundred thousand years, for her crimes, as a threat to the Olympian Pantheon. No one ever worshipped her, she was a Queen dethroned.

However, perhaps the Olympians had forgotten, her time here was over.

One of her feared beasts, Scorpius was close by, hid under the great sand dunes, awaiting for an un-expecting visitor to wander into his fatal grasp, yet it seemed to be eons since the monster had its last meal. But of course, Scorpius was never far away from his master while she was in Tartarus. A feet away from where he hid, Eris sat on her temporary throne, crafted from her omnipotent power. Methodically, she tapped away on the arms of stone that she rested her arms upon, out of sheer boredom because nothing appeared to have taken an interest within the mystical miniature of the Earth itself. Whilst she was trapped in this prison, her magic was not hindered, thus she was still able to pick and pull on Earths strings, sending her pets to sink ships and cause disastrous weather, including tsunami's and sandstorms. But as far as Mt Olympus was concerned, she was unable to touch the world, being shielded by Zeus himself, the bastard. Oh how Eris wanted him dead, all of them actually, his brothers too. Hades might of been considered a evil God, but Eris hated him just as much. In fact, her biological father was the original proprietor of the underworld, until Hades came along, Erebus had to flee, thus Eris never met her real father in person. To be honest, she didn't care about her true family anymore, these were false excuses of hers to fuel her hatred for pantheon itself.

Her tongue craved the taste of retribution, the sweetness of revenge itself. It doesn't matter how long, or how many times it will take to destroy them once and for all. Showing no mercy will be inexorable. But for now, she had to play the game their way. Eris would behave around them, putting on a friendly façade to cover up her slithery intentions, that way, they would at least have the chance of letting their guard down. Having the reassurance that the prison has somehow 'knocked sense into her'... the only way they'll stop her is if she has a change of soul, or heart at least.

As mentioned beforehand, Eris was never accompanied by any other guest in this realm. Only her pets kept her company. However, she felt a sudden change of wind. Eyes shifting to direction that it was heading, blinking, watching in silence. Trying to make out what was causing it, she heard a vibrational hum from afar, emitting some form of magic. A smirk curled upon her lips. "Well well well, looks like we have ourselves a visitor Scorpius. Though don't rush trying to snag them for a meal, I want to see what prisoner has been put here today." She presumed that Zeus sent another foolish Cretin into Tartarus, majority of these so called 'villains' never were of Eris' taste. Rising from her throne, she waltzed down stone steps to meet the thick sand beneath her feet, not even sinking into it, merely touching it rather. The portal had been opened some miles away, so a sense of transportation was essential. Eris didn't wish to make her presence known and hid her ghostly self within the sandstorm, slowly diminishing, she made her way en route.


End file.
